High up among brushwood on a mountain's cold stormy peak
A mad bitch has always lived there in a dark, frosty cave
Sneaking paws and running feet follow
A night of insidious deeds
Spirits dark as soot
Wandered for nocturnal atonement
She is accepted in the trees and the wind, whispers of pines, the song of lime
All are traveling from wide across their regions to get a taste of the witch's potion
She keeps a white fire in a deep pit, come now stranger, have a drink
Spirits wander for nocturnal atonement, a forgotten murderous threat
Spirits dark as soot
Wandered for nocturnal atonement

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